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Daniffen. Randolfe. Llafymae. These names may or may not ring a bell. If ever you have had occasion to visit the Adventurers’ Guild, however, I daresay you already know the personages to whom they belong. Aye, I speak of the saints of old who grace guildleves—the individuals revered as paragons of virtue and raised high by the Twelve themselves. Their legacy remains with us to this day, most visibly in the form of splendid stained crystals upon said guildleves. And then there is the ancient custom called All Saints’Wake.

Legend tells that, at the same time each year, the Twelve honor the saints by inviting them to the celestial realm for a feast of deific proportions. While this show of favor from the gods is no less than the saints deserve, in ascending to the heavens, they leave the mortal realm bereft of their divine protection. During this time, it is said that creatures of darkness come out from hiding to wreak havoc upon mortalkind, and with such gusto as if to make up for the rest of the year when their devilry is kept in check. Fearing for their safety, folk took to returning home before sunset and barricading themselves indoors with kith and kin until dawn arrived to banish the night.

Adventurers, however, could not be swayed by the threat of otherworldly terrors on the night of All Saints' Wake. Ever wont to seek out danger, these brave souls stood fast against all who would threaten Eorzea's people, and word of their deeds on this frightful night would embolden the townsfolk as years went by. In time, the people's trepidations were laid to rest, and they learned to celebrate the Saints' ascension to the heavens, rather than fear their absence. The streets came to be lined with ceremonial warding lanterns, and children would parade about in fanciful costumes, enjoying an evening of tricks and treats. This newfound reverence for All Saints' Wake flourished into an annual tradition celebrated throughout Eorzea.

That is, until the Calamity and the dawn of the Seventh Umbral Era. Though spirits remain low, All Saints' Wake is a time for celebration, and so it is that a traveling circus troupe has made its way to the city-states, to envigor the seasonal revelry. Where there is no denying that the merriment of these performers is sorely needed, I cannot help but wonder if there's more to their tricks than simple sleight of hand. Dressed in costumes of alarming authenticity, they appeared overnight as if by magic, with nary a mention of whence they came. As far as we have been able to ascertain, the thespians bear no us ill will. Yet never forget, dear reader, that All Saints' Wake is a time for tricks and treats—lest you fall victim to the former in pursuit of the latter.- Oliver Goodfellow

The sands of time drift ever onward, and bring us once again to the harvest season. Legend has it that, as the ripening crops bent the boughs below, the Twelve would summon the saints to a great banquet in the celestial realm to honor their virtuous deeds.

Meanwhile, bereft of their guardians, the people grew fearful of the beasts and bogles that dwelt in the darkness. The terrified townspeople would hurry home as twilight fell, and tightly bolt their doors and windows. Those souls who dared venture into the night would don grotesque disguises to better blend in with the shades who stalked the streets. So it was that All Saints' Wake came to be.

But those days of dread are dead and gone. Thanks to the energetic endeavors of adventurers, the boisterous beasts that once ran rampant are kept at bay. Townspeople can sleep easy at night, in complete confidence that no slithering specter will strangle them in their sleep. Once a byword for terror, All Saints' Wake has become a joyous jamboree, with mischief and mirth in equal measure.

This transformation is due in no small part to the Continental Circus, a traveling troupe of mummers committed to making All Saints' Wake a holiday to remember. Donning devilish disguises, they tour the land, performing playful pageants of conjury and illusion, bringing chills to spines and smiles to faces wherever they go.

Your humble reporter has it on good authority that, as part of this year's celebrations, the circus will be holding a spine-tingling costume parade on the Steps of Nald. A source close to the circus described how volunteers will be transmogrified into fantastic forms matching those of the performers, and process down Emerald Avenue, bringing fear and cheer to all in their wake. The hair-raising horde will be led by a member of the troupe dressed as an ogre pumpkinhead, the legendary Great Gourd said to muster the maleficent masses during All Saints' Wake.

The troupe is seeking the assistance of able-bodied adventurers to ensure the parade is the biggest and best it can be, and the organizers anticipate a record turnout. The plans are sure to be a boon to tourist and trade alike, as local businesses brace for an influx of moneyed merrymakers.

But remember, dear readers—this preternatural parade won't last forever. So rally your relatives, muster your mates, and head to Ul'dah to see the spectacle for yourselves!- Havak Alvak

The Continental Circus has returned for another year of frightful fun. But to ensure their mischief does not turn to mayhem, an investigator from the Adventurers' Guild seeks an assistant in his work. Seek him out to see how you can help.